


Turks Extraordinaire

by TulePubPirate



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Drunk Dancing, M/M, Music, One Shot, Swearing, terrible late night decisions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-07 21:19:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1914213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TulePubPirate/pseuds/TulePubPirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A couple Reno/Rude one-shots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rude had accidentally fallen asleep on the couch that night, unfortunately, because if he had been safely tucked away in his bed he might not have been woken up by someone pounding on his apartment door at around 4am. He groaned, stretched, took a moment to silently lament the wrinkled state of his shirt, and heaved himself over to the door to see who the hell was probably about to be shot with the handgun he kept on the shelf above the keyhook for waking him up at such an ungodly hour. It was not surprising at all to see Reno, hair down, dressed in grey sweatpants and a white tanktop—the man even made pajamas look like a fashion disaster, for god’s sake—standing in the hallway looking distressed. 

“Reno, what the ever-loving fuck are you doing here?” Rude sighed. He didn’t move out of the doorway to let Reno in. If he was gonna rob Rude of what little sleep being a Turk allowed him, then he could start off airing his grievances in the hallway until he earned his way inside.

“I just—I was thinking—I just thinking,” Reno paused, scratching his frazzled hair.

“Well I should hope that’s normal for you.” Rude crossed his arms and glared, wishing he was wearing his shades to deepen the effect. It was too late, and he was too tired, to even pretend to be patient.

“No, well yeah, but—“

“Spit it the fuck out, Reno. I’m guessing you didn’t wake me up to stand here and watch you stutter. There’s not even people up yet to watch you embarrass yourself and at least make it entertaining.”

That seemed to get through to him, because he stood up a little straighter, took and deep breath, looked Rude square in the eyes and stated, 

“Rude, I think you may be the love of my life.”

Rude just stared. Reno wasn’t even blushing. He was standing in the open hallway of Rude’s apartment building, declaring Rude his soulmate, and didn’t even have the decency to blush. He even opened his mouth to speak again, the stupid son of bitch.

“I don’t know why it hit me, and I know we’ve only gone out a couple of times and I don’t even know if you could call those dates, but I just—I don’t know it just hit me that we’re perfect together, that you’re perfect. That I’m crazy about you. And maybe this isn’t the time for this but—“

“You’re right this isn’t the time for this.” Rude swung the door open the rest of the way and grabbed Reno by band of his sweatpants, since the tank top didn’t offer much purchase. “Get the fuck inside. What the hell are doing in the hallway!? Dumbass!”

“You wouldn’t let me in!”

“What makes you think I’m going to let you in my house in the middle of the night just because you’re a drunken sixteen-year-old?”

“I’m not drunk, I just—I had an epiphany, okay?” Reno flopped down on the couch where Rude could’ve been sleeping, and tried to run his hands through his hair, but his fingers caught in the tangles, so he had to pause to extricate them. It gave time for Rude go change out of the vestiges of his work clothes into a pair _not stained and frayed at the cuffs_ sweats and a t-shirt before sitting down on the couch’s other end. 

“You had an epiphany.”

Reno looked up from hand-combing his hair and nodded. “Yeah. I know we’ve been…casual, I guess. I don’t mean to come on strong—“

“Can I take a moment to ask,” Rude interrupted, “why this conversation needs to be had at four in the morning, on a work night?” 

Finally Reno’s face turned red. “It was important.”

Rude leveled him with a stare that made him blush all the way to his ears. “It was important.” Reno swallowed, and started to look panicked. Rude sighed. “Really. Of all the stupid, reckless, _poorly-dressed_ jackasses in the world…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Why’d I have to fall in love with _this_ one?”

The room was silent for a good full minute as Rude’s words sunk into Reno’s thick head.

“You’re in love with me?”

“Well I didn’t sprint across town in the middle of the night in my pajamas to tell you, but I meant it all the same.”

“So, uh,” Reno slid a bit further down the couch, until he was almost touching Rude, but not quite. “Does this make us, boyfriends, or something?”

Rude pulled him into a light headlock. “ _Are you_ a drunken sixteen-year-old? Call me your boyfriend again and I will shave off your ponytail while you sleep!”

“Then what are we?” Reno asked, muffled, while pulling his head free of Rude’s arm.

Rude pulled him forward again, but this time into a brief hug. “Partners. We have been, are and will always be _partners._ ”

Reno looked at him in wonder. “Okay then, _partner._ Can we make out on your couch now?”

“No. We can _go to sleep._ ” Rude stood up, tossed a blanket at Reno and headed towards his bedroom. “There will be plenty of time make out on the couch tomorrow, before work.”

Reno smiled ruefully, spreading the blanket and muttering about already being banished to the couch. “Goodnight Rude! You look good in a t-shirt!”

“Goodnight Reno,” Rude answered before closing his door. “You look good with your hair down.”


	2. Chapter 2

Rude stumbled up the back stairs to Reno’s apartment, feeling good from a night of whiskey and handing smug Midgar fat-cats their asses in poker. He didn’t always come out in the black, but tonight he made enough money to treat Reno to a round of shots before they meandered back to his place at around 2am. Reno didn’t even hesitate opening the door—Rude would always hate him for that. Even completely shitfaced, the bastard kept his reflexes. The dye-jobbed S.O.B. could probably do back-handsprings around the kitchen table that moment, for crying out loud. 

Reno dropped his keys and his jacket unceremoniously on the floor, making Rude flinch—“Hey man, you’ve got one fucking cheap-ass suit, and you can’t even bother to hang it up?” “Fuck off, Rude. I’ll give a shit when they threaten to fire me!” “They _do_ threaten to fire you.”—he kept his own jacket on, but set his sunglasses on top of the TV where they’d be safe. His partner headed for the fridge to dig out a few beers. Reno’s place was big, considering only one person lived there. It had nice wooden floors, but the walls had a number of gouges and bullet holes from work that followed Reno home, and there wasn’t much in the way of decoration. No photos, no posters. Just an old TV with a modest collection of movies, some nice rugs by Reno’s tasteless standards, and an old grandfather clock. Turks didn’t make as much money as people tended to think.

“Reno,” he said to the ass sticking out of the fridge, “Mind if I turn on the radio?’

“Go for it; you don’t have to ask.” Reno emerged from the fridge to rifle through the cupboards as Rude searched for a good station. “You want somethin’ to eat, buddy? Rude? Hey, I’m talkin’ to—”

When Reno turned around, Rude was putting one foot up on a kitchen chair, sliding his jacket from his shoulders, singing along to the radio: 

_I said well of course you can, baby, and you can take me to the preacher man, darlin’_

Reno’s jaw dropped. “What are you?”

Rude pulled loose his tie as he climbed up on the table.

_‘cause I just wanna hold your hand, sugar_

“Stop! Stop! Oh my God—you fucking beautiful—“

Before the chorus even hit, Reno was singing along, up on the table with Rude, both of them swaying their hips and unbuttoning their shirts. Reno leaned in for a kiss when a loud crack made the two pause. Reno opened his mouth, but before he could ask what made the sound, the table collapsed beneath them, sending Reno rolling ass over ponytail on top of Rude. Rude shoved him aside to sit up.

“You broke my table!”

“You were standing on it too, dumbass.”

“You started it! How was I supposed to resist you and your sexy siren song!”

Rude stood up, brushing wood chips off of his pants and stepped over Reno and out of the debris. “Well this sexy siren’s taking his song to the bedroom, unless you don’t want to fuck.”

Reno scrambled to his feet, tripping over the remains of a table leg. “I never said I didn’t want to fuck—I’m just saying you’re takin’ me furniture shopping tomorrow after work!”

“Anything to make you stop whining and move your ass,” Rude replied. He paused in the doorway to Reno’s bedroom, catching Reno’s eye. “Hey,” he said. “You look hot tonight.”

Reno smirked. “You too, Rude. You look sharp in that suit.”

“How about you come here and kiss me, and don’t break anything this time.”

“Don’t mind if I do, jackass.” Reno kissed him, pushing him through the door and kicking it shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is "On a Cloud" by PPP


	3. Hypomanic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I’m currently hypomanic and having trouble convincing myself that sleep is a necessary thing, so I blatantly wrote a Reno/Rude fic to mirror my exact current dilemma. I've fallen surprisingly in love with the idea of bipolar!Rude.

Reno woke up to the sounds of pans clattering. He grumbled, and flipped over to look at the glaring red numbers 3:35 on his clock. The sky was black outside his curtainless window. The light was definitely on in his kitchen. He growled out a tired _fuck_ and swung his feet onto the cold hardwood floor, shuffled to the bedroom door like a zombie and cracked it open just wide enough to see past. The light was an insult to his eye sockets.

“The fuck Rude?” he slurred out, leaning his head against the door frame.

“Chill out and go to bed, Red. I’m just makin’ something.” Rude waved one hand in the general direction of Reno’s voice and kept digging through his kitchen cupboards.

“Making what?” 

“I dunno. I’ll find out when I’m done.”

“It’s past 3 am, buddy.”

“It’s fine. You never heard of a midnight snack?”

“A midnight snack is a donut and a chug of milk straight from the carton. You’re opening up a cake shop in my kitchen when we have work in the morning.”

Rude finally set down his ingredients to turn and look at Reno, who was trying his best to look stubborn despite his drooping eyelids and the rising urge to yawn. 

“I said it’s fine. I don’t need that much sleep anyway. I’ve got better things to do.”

“Like baking?”

“Like baking.” Rude turned back to digging through Reno’s kitchen, pulling out mixing bowls. Reno was surprised he even had mixing bowls. Rude must have stashed them there.

Seeing that Rude was determined, Reno heaved a sigh and nudged his door open the rest of the way with his bare foot. “Come on, Rude,” he coaxed, “Come back to bed with me. You gotta sleep, partner.”

“I do not. I’m just gonna end up staring at the cobwebs on your ceiling. You gotta dust, man.”

Reno trudged into the kitchen, gently pulling Rude’s hand away from the fridge handle and twining his fingers through his partners’. 

“Then you’re gonna get real familiar with my gross ceiling. Trust me Rude, you need sleep, you will fall asleep eventually, and you suck at baking anyway.” Reno slumped his head on Rude’s shoulder and kissed his cheek. Rude smiled, but still sighed and gave a longing glance to the mess he’d collected on Reno’s counters. 

“We can clean up tomorrow,” Reno smiled, cutting off the thoughts he could see in Rude’s face. Rude frowned at him. Reno slid his arm around Rude’s waist and gave him an eager tug back towards the bedroom. “At least come to keep me company, eh babe?”  
“Fine, but I’m only doing it for you, needy jackass.” Rude scooped Reno up bridal-style and carried him back into the merciful darkness of his bedroom. He laid Reno down with a kiss and a light slap on the ass before climbing in himself. “I still don’t think I’m sleeping tonight, though.

“You say that every time, “Reno chuckled, wrapping himself in the blankets. “And every time you wind up snoring.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rude muttered, nudging Reno teasingly with his foot. “That’s the only time you’re ever right.”

“Quality over quantity, partner. Quality over quantity.” He yawned wide enough to make his eyes water, and felt Rude’s finger thread through his hair, and a kiss land a bit awkwardly on his nose. 

“Sleep tight, Reno. I’ll keep you warm.”

“You too Rude. You need it—“another yawn, “—more than me.”

When Reno’s alarm went off, Rude was snoring lightly beside him, but the mess in the kitchen, he noticed grumpily as he got up for coffee, was mysteriously gone.


End file.
